Soulmates

Chapter 11: Loathing

Tris hates the fear sims as much as anyone. She may get through them faster, but that doesn't make them any less traumatic.

Around her, all of the initiates are flagging. They're not sleeping well. They have nightmares, and spend long hours staring into space. The afternoons of joking around and playing card games feel like a distant memory.

To make things worse, Tris hasn't seen Eric during phase two. As much as she tries to convince herself that he's just her leader and trainer, and a harsh one at that, she can't help craving his presence.

She sees Four daily, and has no idea how she would survive the fear sims without his hug at the end. Somehow he makes her feel safe, and strong. He recognized her divergence from the sims, too, and assured her that she was safe in Dauntless, and that neither he nor Eric would ever let anything happen to her.

Today is the worst fear Tris has faced. It’s the same as her recurring dream of being chased in the dark woods and forced to decide which path to take. She screams herself hoarse during the simulation, yelling "I already chose! I chose Dauntless! It's not up to me anymore! I can't! I chose Dauntless! What do you want from me?" until she collapses into a sobbing mess on the floor and gives in to the darkness.

It took Tris over ten minutes to get through the sim, her worst score by far. It takes Four twice that long to comfort her afterward. The fear confuses Four. There were no monsters, no attackers, no obvious dangers that he could see. It was dark, and kind of creepy, but he couldn’t understand how it could inspire the level of panic, and even anger that he saw in Tris.

When he finally gets her settled and dropped off at the dorm, Four rushes to Eric’s office. Without knocking, he walks in to the young leader’s office and throws the day’s initiate sim times on Eric’s desk.

“I’m so glad phase two ends today,” Four says, dropping into a chair across from Eric.

Glancing at the papers in front of him, Eric is surprised to see that Tris had a much higher time than usual. “What was her sim today?” he asks Four. “What took so long?”

“I don’t know,” says Four, clearly agitated. “She was just… She was like running through the woods. It was dark, but it didn’t seem like a big deal until she got to a fork in the road. When she had to go either left or right, she just lost it. Like really lost it! She started screaming about making choices and choosing Dauntless. She got out of it because she just fell on the ground sobbing until it passed. It took a long time to calm her down, too.”

“What do you think it’s about?” Eric asks.

“I have no idea,” says Four. “But I’m warning you. When you have to watch her final test, it’s pretty brutal. I’ve been doing sims for two years now, and I’ve never felt the way I do when it’s Tris in there. I need a drink.”

“Let’s go post the stage two scores and get that drink,” Eric agrees.

xxxx

After dinner in the cafeteria, the initiates rush back to the dorm to see their rankings for stage two. No one is getting cut, but the scores affect their final rankings, so they’re eager for the update.

When Tris and her friends arrive at the dorm, they see the list of ranks and average sim times. Tris finds her own name right away, because it’s on the top of the list. She reads the rest of the list. Uriah is in second place. Peter is in third, but the time listed by his name is much higher than hers.

“Nice job, Tris,” Will says quietly.

Peter turns slowly, every limb infused with tension. He glares at Tris with a look of pure hatred, then whips around and shoves her against a wall. “I will not be outranked by a Stiff,” he hisses.

“I’m just doing the best I can, like anyone else,” Tris argues.

Peter and his friends storm out of the dorm. Christina and Will, who are ranked seventh and ninth, leave a minute later. Will pats Tris on the shoulder on his way out.

Tris and Al are left alone in the dorm. Al looks surprisingly small, his shoulders slumped and his body collapsing on itself like crumpled paper. He sits down on the edge of his bed. Tris wants to ask him if he’s alright, but that would just a formality. Anyone with eyes can see that Al is not all right.

“It’s not over,” she says, trying to be comforting.

“Easy for you to say,” Al moans.

Tris feels powerless to help him. She stands awkwardly as the big boy starts to cry. “I… I just… I want to be alone,” Al says.

Tris nods and turns away.

xxxx

After hours of racing thoughts, Tris rolls over and opens her eyes. The dormitory is dark and quiet with everyone in bed, but she can’t sleep.

She gets out of bed to get a drink of water. A bulb glows blue above the drinking fountain, and she wanders lazily toward it, then bends to take a drink.

Suddenly, someone grabs her from behind. She tries to scream, but a hand clamps over her mouth. She thrashs, and bites at the hand over her mouth, but the arms holding her are too strong.

“Ow!” a voice cries.

“Shut up and keep her mouth covered,” says a familiar voice, Peter.

A blindfold covers Tris’ eyes, a pair of hands tying it behind her. “I wonder what it sounds like when a Stiff begs for mercy,” Peter says with a chuckle. “Hurry up.”

Tris clenches her teeth and breathes through her nose, trying to quell her fear. The soap smell on the hands holding her is familiar. Lemongrass and sage, the same smell that surrounds Al’s bunk. A weight drops into Tris’ stomach. Al, she thinks. My friend.

The crash of water against rocks alerts Tris that they are near the Chasm. Peter’s next words confirm the kidnappers’ plan. “Lift her up, c’mon.”

She thrashes and screams, even though she knows that no one can hear her above the roar of the water. Rough hands push her up and slam her back into something hard and cold, a metal railing. Her feet leave the ground, and her attackers are the only thing keeping her from falling into the raging torrent below.

Someone gropes Tris’ chest roughly. “You sure you’re sixteen, Stiff? Doesn’t feel like you’re more than twelve,” Peter says. The other boys laugh. “Wait, I think I found something!” he mocks, squeezing her hard.

Tris bites hard on the first arm she can find. Her captor screams, and she clenches her jaw harder, tasting blood. The attackers retaliate by striking her face, and the boy holding her wrenches his arm away and throws her to the ground. She bangs her elbow against stone, and a foot drives into her side. She gasps and coughs, and claws at her blindfold. Someone grabs a handful of Tris’ hair and slams her head against something hard, making her dizzy.

Tris gets the blindfold off and sees figures running around. She grabs the railing and hauls herself to her feet. Peter wraps a hand around Tris’ throat and lifts her up, holding her over the chasm as spots appear on the edges of her vision.

There's a shout, and Peter releases her. She stretches out her arms as she falls, and her armpits slam into the railing. She hears thumps, kicks, and groans, but everything is a blur of motion, mist from the Chasm, and blind panic.

Suddenly Tris recognizes one of the men fighting her attackers. “Four,” she croaks.

Hands wrap around her arms, pulling her over the railing and against her rescuer’s chest. She presses her face into the familiar shoulder. “Eric,” she says.

“I got you, Baby,” Eric says soothingly. “Four and I are here. You’re safe now.”

Tris nods against Eric’s broad chest. He reaches down and scoops the injured girl into his arms, just as she passes out.